The Pale Meridian
The radio crackled, a dry, static hiss that cut through the sterile silence of the station house. "Unit Four, you’re up for shift. Check your gear." It was a simple command. It was the first time he had heard a human voice in three days. He did not answer. He sat in the corner of the interrogation room, his back against the cold, painted cinder block wall. The fluorescent light above him buzzed...
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